


With Pleasured Hands

by ButMakeItGay



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: But Uhhh They're Vamps So, Clextober, Clextober 2019, Don't Worry the Girls Are Fine, F/F, Fluff, Minor Character Death, Seriously stop trusting me on chapter counts guys, Smut, Some Humor, Vampire AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-16 01:23:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21262808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButMakeItGay/pseuds/ButMakeItGay
Summary: “Don’t play with your food, darling.”The voice echoed softly in her head, Clarke’s eyes darting back to the booth where gleaming forest green punched a hole through her chest, warming her tepid skin with their intensity alone.“His arrogance is breathtaking.”“Then it is rather a good thing that you do not require air to live, is it not?” That small tick of a smirk across red painted lips had always done things to her…////////////////////Clexa Vamp au





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This turned out just a tad darker than I anticipated... Whatever. It's fine.

“_Don’t play with your food, darling._”

The voice echoed softly inside of her head, Clarke’s eyes darting back to the booth where gleaming forest green punched a hole through her chest, warming her tepid skin with their intensity alone. 

“_His arrogance is breathtaking._”

“_Then it's rather fortunate that you don't require air to live, is it not?_”

That small tick of a smirk across red painted lips had always done things to her…

“_He’s mansplaining mythology to me,_” she mentally huffed, minutely rolling her eyes at the amused woman sitting in the booth across the bar. “_I don’t understand why they always feel I need an education of some sort every time we do this._”

“_Perhaps it’s the blonde,_” she heard, the words whispering through her mind as the image of her wife’s devilish smirk floated behind her eyes.

“_Fuck you, Lexa,_” she thought, sending the message loud and clear across the room, shooting an unimpressed look at the self satisfied face.

“_I’m only joking, my love._”

The conciliatory and soothing words bathing her thoughts, matching the softness that replaced her previously teasing grin. “_You know how much I love your mind. It will never be me who underestimates your brilliance."_

“_Nice save,_” Clarke grinned, turning back to the man in front of her, predictably seeing he hadn’t broken stride during her few moments of distraction. “_You’re still going to pay for that later._”

“_Promise?_”

She couldn’t stop the slight chuckle that escaped her, feeling the echo of her wife’s libido pick up at the dark promise of reprisal.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, her amused reaction seemed to coincide with… whatever the hell it was the incredibly dull human in front of her had been droning on about. Predatory blue eyes flicked up when a large hand landed on her waist as the man laughed at what appeared to be his own joke, his fingers squeezing lightly at her hip. Suppressing a shiver as the ghost of a growl filtered through her mind, Clarke shook off the external aggression as she slowly trailed off her laughter, leaning further against the bar beside her.

“Yeah I always thought that was pretty funny,” he said, brown eyes shining with self satisfaction. “Not many girls are into this kinda stuff. Or, they don’t really get the nuances. You're really refreshing.”

Her mental scoff was loud and full. 

Swallowing the urge to voice her reaction to his multifaceted, insultingly ignorant statement, Clarke smiled demurely, reaching forward to run the tip of her finger along the hand resting on the bar top beside them.

“Oh no, I find it all terribly interesting,” she breathed softly, looking up at him through the hang of her lashes. “I love learning new things. People sharing themselves with me… Their thoughts, I mean.”

“Yeah?” he asked dumbly, stepping forward with an exhilarated grin.

“_Clarke,_” she heard sharply across her mind, practically able to feel the angry vibrations of her wife’s agitation. 

“Yes,” Clarke whispered softly, inhaling deeply as she could practically taste his heart pick up at her words. She watched him start to inch forward, his eyes flickering closed as he bent down… only to fly back open as she placed a soft hand on his chest.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I thought-”

“No no,” she assured quietly. “Just… not here. Maybe we could continue this… learning about each other, someplace a bit more… private?” she smiled impishly, sliding her hand up to gently tap the tips of her fingers against the side of his neck. 

Without another word, she turned, sliding her coat on as he dropped a few dollars on the bar top before moving to grab his own. Noticing with exasperation the shameful amount he had deemed fit for a tip, Clarke discreetly tucked an extra bill under the short stack of singles before stepping away, hitching an inviting smile across her face as she curled a hand around the waiting elbow.

The chill of the evening caressed her skin as they stepped out, the fresh smell of fall air filling her nose to replace the stagnant staleness of the bar they left behind. Autumn had always been her favorite time of year whenever they found themselves in this section of the world, the colors and scents reminding her of a lifetime come and gone. Not that she would ever change her fate, her immortality giving her the greatest gift her life had ever known. 

The gift that was currently stalking the pair as they walked quietly down the darkened sidewalk. 

“Where are we going?” The deep vibrations of her companion’s voice broke Clarke out of her silent ruminations, the unsettled undertone sending a dark thrill through the beast within.

It wasn’t that she enjoyed killing, it was simply how she was built to survive. More often than not, the couple thrived on seedily acquired butcher's blood or, occasionally, ‘donations’ from select local hospitals who were sympathetic to their condition. 

But every once in a while… their demons simply got the best of them. 

“Not much further,” she consoled, running her hand along the length of his forearm as she steered them across the small patch of frost covered grass that crunched beneath their feet, swiftly and confidently leading them through the open archway made of wrought iron and steel.

“When you said someplace private, I wasn’t exactly expecting a cemetery,” he chuckled nervously, the obviousness of his false bravado sounding perversely enticing in her ear.

“This is where the party is,” Clarke informed him, continuing to direct them further up the winding path, the darkness growing thicker with each passing step.

“I thought you wanted to... ya know, be alone,” he commented, his head starting to swivel toward various passing headstones and tombs.

“Hmm, I do,” she hummed, pulling him gently off to one side, coming to a stop in front of a large oak tree. Detaching herself from his arm, she slowly drifted over to the towering tree, leaning back easily against it’s rough and weathered bark. “Doesn’t this _feel_ private?”

“I guess it does,” he grinned, moving to join her.

She watched with bored eyes as he excitedly reached out, laying hands on her hips as he stepped closer, crowding into her personal space. Seeing Clarke not having moved an inch, the man once again leaned forward, dipping his head as his eyes slid shut, the anticipatory look of rhapsody already painting his features at the prospect of things to come...

Clarke watched with delighted amusement as his eyes flew open instead, wrenching away at the disembodied growl that reverberated around them, it’s guttural timbre causing the hairs on her neck to stand on end.

“What the fuck was that?” he rushed out quietly, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his eyes struggled to discern one object from the next in the heavy blanket of darkness.

She smiled wickedly, allowing her fangs to descend as her eyes turned a sickly shade of predatory yellow. “That’s the party.”

His face screwed up on disgusted horror, his hands releasing her as he stumbled back awkwardly, the intoxicating scent of his terror clouding Clarke’s mind as she watched him tumble back… right into the rigid stone wall that was the waiting chest of her wife's coiled body. Whipping around, a strangled yelp burst from his mouth as he took in her similar state of being, the low glow of her furious eyes enough to scare even the bravest of men.

“Enjoying your time with my wife?” Lexa hissed, the low raspy cadence of her voice reminding Clarke of the exact moment she had fallen in love with the powerful enigma before her. 

Staving off memories of dark bed chambers and stolen kisses from forbidden trysts, Clarke sauntered forward, the two effectively caging in the horrified man.

“Now, now, baby. If you’re going to get angry, we can’t play this game anymore… No one likes a spoilsport.”

She saw yellowish green eyes swing over his shoulder, plump lips pulling back in a snarl at her mischievous grin before relaxing, a wave of adoration and apology sweeping over Clarke’s senses. 

“What the hell are you two?” their unwitting guest cried, his voice trembling as his body shook violently, his head turning back and forth between them.

Gleaming eyes snapped back, a cruel smile unfurling across a demonically angelic face.

“Hungry.”

With the practiced ease that comes from centuries of companionship, Clarke moved forward from behind, a single swift hand reaching around to cup his jaw, snapping back as Lexa fluidly caught the heavily slumping figure. Tilting his head at just the right angle, both moved as one, twin sets of fangs sinking into the yielding flesh.

So caught up in the ecstasy of warm, viscous life flowing into her, Clarke didn’t realize her eyes had slid closed until slender fingers threaded through her hair, fisting her golden locks lightly. Opening them, her eyes locked with the only shade of sunshine her mind could seem to remember. Lexa stared hungrily at her as they continued to feast, Clarke feeling her wife’s fingers flex with every long draw she took.

But as is the world, all good things must come to an end, the pair feeling the blood begin to cool as the flow weakened and waned beneath their lips. Pulling back first, Lexa panted heavily into the evening air, the warmth from their meal causing her breath to expel in minute, steamy puffs and wisps.

“Enough. It’s over.” Hearing the grumbling growl from Clarke’s mouth, she chuckled quietly, gently shaking the hairs in her grasp in reprimand. “Stop, love. You always regret when you overdo it.”

Wrenching away, Clarke took a few deep breaths to calm herself, the feeling of artificial life coursing through her always making her feel euphoric and spun out of control. But just as swiftly, because her wife knew her better than she knew herself sometimes, she felt the corpse discarded to the side as strong arms wrapped around her, warm soft lips descending on her own in a messy kiss.

Giving herself over to the woman, she allowed herself to blindly be walked backward, her body hitting the tree softly even as the hand relaxed against her scalp, cradling her head from any impact. Lips moved hungrily against hers, nips and licks covering the expanse of her mouth. She felt a hand grip the fleshy part of her thigh, lifting her leg to curl around sturdy hips as Lexa rocked into her core.

“You look so unbelievably beautiful tonight,” Lexa panted between kisses, her knee doing wonderfully evil things between Clarke’s legs. “Gorgeous… Lethal… It took everything in me not to bend you over one of those chairs… show him exactly who is the only one allowed to touch you that way... The only one who can make you beg for release."

Clarke couldn’t help the way she clenched at the words despite mentally rolling her eyes at the overt possessiveness, knowing her wife only got this way when Clarke played the part of bait in their little game of cat and mouse. Still, beyond her control, the words reached down into her gut and swirled violently, her hips bucking forward at the image they painted. 

“Always so eager for me,” she heard in her ear, a sharp fang scraping across her ear before a soothing tongue calmed the burn. The hand at her thigh disappeared, only for Clarke to feel it grab roughly at her wrist, not realizing she had been obscenely cupping and teasing small pert breasts beneath the thick material of Lexa’s sweater.

Feeding on the living always did send her through a loop.

Slowly dragging the hand down her body, Lexa smirked as she pulled back, looking into fiery eyes as she guided Clarke’s inside the waistband of her pants, tilting her hips forward to encourage the now seeking digits. Brain picking up traction, Clarke whimpered at the pool of wetness she found, quickly slicking up two fingers to massage fluidly through swollen folds.

“Yes,” Lexa hissed, her head dropping back slightly in pleasure before pitching forward, crashing their lips together as she smoothly slipped her hand along the inside of Clarke’s thigh, trailing beneath the lifted hem of the dress to rub through soaked silk. “Always so wet.”

“_Please._” The desperation in her voice not a common occurrence, but when it happened, she knew her wife revelled in her unabashed neediness.

“Please what, my love?” Lexa asked, her satisfaction on full display in her tone. 

Opening her eyes, Clarke huffed at the amusement dancing within yellow rimmed black, grunting as she swiftly shifted her hand forward, sliding two fingers inside with one stroke. Seeing the haughty expression roll back into one of surprised pleasure, Clarke grinned as she slowly started pumping in and out, curling her fingers expertly every other thrust. It was almost too easy, knowing exactly what to do to her wife’s body to drive her quickly and thoroughly over the edge.

“Now who’s playing with their food?” Clarke teased quietly, leaning forward to suck and nip at her exposed neck. 

“You’re such a brat.”

“C’mon, baby,” she pleaded genuinely, feeling the low warning growl loose from the chest now pressed against her. “Take me… I want to taste you when I come.”

That seemed to be all the encouragement Lexa needed.

Clarke felt the hand still threaded through her hair tighten almost painfully as her head was jerked forward, pillowy lips roughly claiming her as a tongue invaded her mouth without hesitation. She practically melted at the calculated roughness, dissolving into the hold as she felt sure fingers push aside soaked fabric to swipe directly through her folds. With barely a moment to ready herself, Clarke felt one, then two slim fingers sink inside. 

The length of her wife’s dexterous hands always left Clarke feeling lightheaded, her ability to hit spots that caused Clarke’s toes to curl inside her pricey stilettos truly a sensation to behold. She loved all the ways they were intimate. Whether it be hours long sessions of lovemaking, soft kisses and crests of pleasure each bleeding seamlessly into the next, or discreet touches leading to rushed bright orgasms simply meant to renew their physical connection during times of hardship or fleeing.

But times such as this held a special place in Clarke’s, albeit non-beating, heart.

It was neither rushed nor slow, rather a steady build of thrusts and ardor; a fiery crescendo of wringing pleasure from each other’s bodies as they celebrated and mourned the dark bloodlust stained mantle they were burdened to carry. 

Lexa fucked like she loved, resolutely and with her entire being, the very fabric of her existence seeming to hinge on consuming and reciprocating the connection between them. Clarke felt as though she were crawling out of her skin, struggling to keep up the pace of her strokes as she felt the perfect blend of punishing trusts and well time curls mixed with sure swipes and swivels of an exceptionally talented thumb. As the whimpers and snarls mounted between them, she nearly lost the fight to stay standing as she felt the commanding stretch of a third finger slipping inside.

“Fuck, Clarke, you smell so... fuck... Taste so good. Especially like this… always like this,” Lexa panted after pulling away from kissed bruised lips, trailing her mouth hotly over the cliff and dip of Clarke’s jaw. 

Feeling her wife start to tighten around her fingers, the once steady rocking of hips turning choppy and desperate, Clarke twisted her fingers in the way she knew drove Lexa up the wall, dropping her palm to massage messy circles over her twitching hardened bud. The responding growl of pleasure was enough to send Clarke over the edge, clamping down violently on the still trusting fingers as a thumb relentlessly circled above. Blindly sinking her fangs into creamy soft flesh, Clarke shouted her exquisite death loudly into the body that would always be there to catch her.

Absently, she felt the responding bite, her mind too blissed out to pay it any mind beyond how the sweet, dull pain helped extend her body's pulses of pleasure, trying her best to help her wife ride out her own powerful orgasm. After a few moments, the waves of pleasure coursing through her slowed, the muscles around her fingers calming as Lexa slumped into her, releasing the bite to pant lightly against her neck. Clarke hummed peacefully as she felt the still warm tongue gently lap at the wound, knowing it was more for Lexa’s own comfort than hers, considering the punctures would heal within moments anyway.

Slowly slipping her fingers out of her wife, smiling lightly at the low groan that rumbled from the loss, she shifted to signal for Lexa to pull out as well. As the woman righted herself, green eyes staring adoringly at her once more, Clarke slowly slid her fingers into her mouth, making sure to send her own twinkling look of teasing affection.

“Stop that,” Lexa chuckled softly, leaning forward to chastely kiss glistening lips before pulling back entirely. She took a moment to straighten Clarke’s dress, always taking the time after their ardent couplings to correct and detangle anything she may have mussed, before smoothing down her own sweater and slacks. “Well,” she sighed at last, lifting her head to address the woman still leaning sated and limp against the tree, “Shall we?”

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Ugh, jesus, how much does this guy weigh?” Clarke grunted as they rolled him over into the deep abyss. The muffled thump filtering through the night air as she stood straight, hands on her hips as she looked down into the square hole.

“More than a few pints lighter than he did before this evening, I would wager.”

“Hilarious.”

“You’re the one who always seems to choose himbos,” her wife said blandly from beside her, shovel already in hand as she began pushing spadefuls of dirt back into the pre-dug grave, returning it’s depth to where they had found it waiting in anticipation of the funeral scheduled the following morning.

“Where in god’s name did you learn that word?” Clarke laughed, her face plainly showing her bewildered surprise as Lexa looked over a hunched shoulder. 

“Ellen, I think... But I can’t be sure,” she trailed off in thought for a moment, eventually shrugging before resuming the task at hand.

“Absolutely revolting, baby,” she smiled, lightly knocking the side of her heel against Lexa’s stuck out hip as she continued to sift the excess dirt she had dug up earlier back into the hole. “But regardless, I don’t think he would technically constitute a… ‘himbo’,” Clarke chuckled, the world sounding ridiculous and almost cringe worthy on her tongue. 

“Why not?”

“Because,” she sighed in reply to her wife’s grunted question, “I believe those are supposed to be handsome, kind, charming, and dumb. Kind and charming certainly don’t apply in the slightest; he talked to me like I was a simpleton. And you saw how handsy he was.”

“I did,” Lexa said quietly, the minute rumble to her words causing Clarke to roll her eyes.

“So no, I don’t think he qualified.”

“But you thought he was handsome?”

“Don’t start,” Clarke said boredly, walking over to look down into the deep, soon-to-be double grave. “I think you’re done, baby, I can’t see anything and it looks pretty flat.”

Sighing deeply, Lexa sent a final pile of dirt cascading down before stabbing the spade head back into the mound beside her. Taking a rag out of her back pocket, she wiped the bit of dirt from her hands, dusting the front of her slacks for good measure. “I wasn’t starting. I was simply curious, love.” 

“The day my eyes hunger for another is the day I willing discard myself into the sun,” she said sweetly, stepping forward to circle Lexa’s shoulders, fingers playing with a few wild curls of her favorite head of brunette.

“Absolutely revolting,” Lexa teased, sliding her hands along plush hips, enjoying the cool satin material of her wife’s dress beneath her fingers. “But I’ll take it.”

“You know you have nothing to worry about… hundreds of years and still, you’ve always been the only one to make my heart race.”

“I love you,” Lexa whispered, her eyes softening into emerald pools as they swept over every curve and dip of Clarke’s face.

“I love you, too,” Clarke returned softly but vehemently, tracing gentle fingers over the bow of a dark brow and down, trailing over the crease of a full bottom lip. “So very, very much.”

Taking a moment to kiss the unspoken promise from blood sweetened lips, Lexa nodded lightly as she reached up, capturing wandering hands in her own to lace their fingers together. “The sun will be up soon… Let’s go home.”

“Yes,” she agreed, allowing her wife to lead them back down the path from which they came, moving instead to lean into the taller form as a strong arm wrapped securely around her waist. 

“Tonight was actually a pretty decent evening,” she heard her wife say eventually, neither breaking the pleasant silence until they were only a few blocks from home.

“It was,” she said easily, turning it all over in her mind... before a devilish smirk exploded across her face, turning her head to gleefully catch her wife’s eye. “But don’t think I’ve forgotten that little comment in the bar.”

“... But, darling it's so late-”

“A promise is a promise,” she reminded sternly, despite her decidedly toothy grin. “Now... let’s get you home.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prequel: Vampire Clexa's origin story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... have no idea. 
> 
> This got so far away from me I don't even know what to say.
> 
> It's long af, it's cheesy, it's dark, it's a period-piece. Or my attempt at one.
> 
> **Set in the 1700's. I am not going to get into the amount of time I spent making sure the words actually fit into the lexicon for the time period, just suffice it to say, RIP my google search history.
> 
> Tried to write it in the style of Old/Middle English, but considering I have no idea what I'm doing, I have no idea if I was successful. Just wanted to try something new.
> 
> Good luck everybody!

"Of course, Mother, " Clarke agreed obediently, nodding her head in deference.

"I cannot express my gladness at your change of heart, dear. He will make a fine husband, of that I am sure," her mother said as she sat her glass back down beside her supper plate. "It has been far too long a betrothal; I was beginning to be quite embarrassed at the ladies weekly luncheons."

"Yes, Mother."

"Constantly forced to invent excuses for your lack of urgency towards marriage… well, what is done is done I suppose."

"Yes, Mother," she supplied quietly, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

"Though, I had begun to worry you had every intention of idling through the entirety of your existence. You and that… kitchen maid. I knew I should have discouraged the friendship when you were children," she continued carelessly, oblivious to the gathering anger in the younger woman beside her. "That girl-”

“What’s her name again?”

“_Alexandra_,” her mother informed her husband, the disdain in her voice stopping Clarke from any attempt to correct her. “Where was I? Oh, yes. That girl has done nothing but distract you your entire life. I believe this spot of distance between you these past few weeks has made a world of difference."

"Yes, Mother," Clarke gritted out between lightly clenching teeth.

"It is good for you to be away from her, no husband will allow such frivolity from their spouse, of that I can assure you. As lovely and understanding as Mr. Collins has proven himself to be, a wife cannot spend her days with a-"

"May I be excused?" Clarke interrupted, trusting that if she allowed that sentence to be completed her reaction would be something of a spectacle. "I apologize for the interruption, I am having one of my spells and feel I should lay down for the evening."

"Yes, of course, bug," her father interjected from the other side of the table, a small frown creasing his face. "Are you alright? Should we fetch a doctor?"

"No, Father, but thank you," she smiled, grateful for his concern and acquiescence. "I don't think it is anything a good night's rest won't cure."

"Alright, well, off to bed with you then," he smiled charmingly, his warmth always setting Clarke at ease no matter the situation.

"Yes, goodnight, dear. We'll continue the plans tomorrow when you're feeling better... Imagine, Clarke, in less than four weeks time, you will be retiring for the evening a married woman."

"Yes, Mother," she replied, possibly the only statement she has genuinely agreed with the entire evening. "Goodnight to you both. Sleep well." With that she rose from her chair, stepping aside as a butler moved to return her seat to its proper place, offering a small gratitude before exiting the room.

She sighed heavily once she was alone in the great hallway leading away from the informal dining room. Pressing a hand to her stomach, she took a moment to calm her anger as she walked the familiar path, her mother's words still eliciting a simmering sensation just below the skin.

It was bad enough having to go along with the insipid planning of this sham of a wedding, much less being forced to listen to the loveliest human being she had ever known be belittled right in front of her. She knew her mother meant well, but her classism and prejudice against working people was tiresome at best and abhorrent at worse.

She twisted her fingers together at the thought of things to come, the planning and execution well underway had her stomach flipping every time she thought on the matter. There was such a small window of time to get everything in order, to ensure things went off without a hitch, it left her feeling overwhelmed the majority of the time, a lingering nausea plaguing her when the notion of possible failure aros-

Clarke couldn’t stop the small yelp that escaped her as a slim hand darted out of a drawing room doorway, grabbing a handful of the frill of her skirts and yanking her inside. She felt her back softly collide against the heavy door as it shut, full lips swiftly capturing her own, her startled exclamation melting into a low hum of appreciation as strong arms wrapped around her waist.

Sliding her hands along well toned arms, her eyes flickered open as her captor pulled away gently, amused green eyes sparkling back at her. “Hello, my love.”

“Must you always give me a fright instead of simply revealing yourself?” she huffed softly, smiling despite her words as her fingers curled and uncurled a few brown strands. Seeing that the mischievous grin would be the woman’s only response, Clarke rolled her eyes in fond exasperation. “I am glad you’re home, I missed you.”

“And I, you,” Lexa exhaled, running her hands along the expanse of her back. “So very much.”

“I loathe when you’re away for such stretches of time. You leave me at the mercy of my mother.” Clarke couldn’t help her small amusement at the woman’s exaggerated grimace.

“I know, love, I loathe it as well… But everything is almost ready. Thomas will have the horses and clothing satchels readied in a few days time, and I’ve finally collected the back payments from my dairymaid work… I spoke again with Lady Mary the evening before last and she assured there is a room and jobs waiting for when we arrive... Just a few more days, darling,” she said softly, the intense longing reverberating loudly in Clarke’s ears.

“And we will be free.”

“Yes,” Lexa whispered adoringly, reaching up to cup her face tenderly, gently running her thumbs over the apples of flushed cheeks. “And then we will be free. And I will love you more wholely than any soul has ever loved another.”

“You always say such words,” Clarke breathed lightly, turning into the affection as she nuzzled a warm palm.

“And I always mean every one,” she smiled wistfully, leaning forward to softly kiss pink lips. “Thank you so very much, Clarke.”

“What are you thanking me for?” she puzzled, her hands caressing the small freckles that dotted her neck.

Clarke watched as her lover swallowed roughly, green eyes gliding over the entirety of her face.

“... For choosing me,” Lexa simpered out eventually. “For loving me as I love you… For not shattering my heart by forcing me to watch you marry another. I don’t think I would have survived it.”

“Sweetheart,” Clarke frowned, shaking her head softly as she reached forward, caressing a delicately trembling lip. “I could never. Surely you must know that by now. I have loved you since before I truly knew the meaning of the word... Since a strange _someone_ hissed something rather scathing about carelessness while throwing an apple at me in Father’s orchard for knocking over her bushel as I played.”

Lexa smiled softly, leaning forward to kiss a spot on the flat of her chest, as though her lips could rewind time and heal her body’s long forgotten bruise left there by the projectile. “I did apologize, if you remember.”

“When your mother forced your hand,” Clarke snorted inelegantly.

“It was abnormally warm that day and I was simply-”

“Shhh,” Clarke hushed her, leaning up to kiss the argument from plump lips. “My point is that I love you. You are the greatest friend I have ever known, and you are the only person I wish to spend my life with. Selfish as it may be, I am doing this as much for my own happiness as I am for yours.”

“I assure you, I will, Clarke,” Lexa promised immediately. “I will make you so very happy.”

Resting her head on a soft, sturdy shoulder, Clarke tightened her arms in the intimate embrace.

“You already have.”

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“-so when she started yet again on the topic of spousal expectations, I fled as fast as my feet would carry.”

Chuckling lightly at the story, Lexa bumped her shoulder affectionately against her as they neared Clarke’s room. Though devoutly listening to the woman’s regaling of her rather taxing supper conversation, her mind swirled with plans and contingencies yet to be made; odds and ends that still required her attention to ensure a smooth escape from the matriarchal Griffin manor and Abigail’s rigid thumb.

“Perhaps you should have stayed for that particular lesson,” she grinned evilly, coming to a stop and setting down her guiding candle on the small table just outside of the large double doors at the end of the hall.

“Why in the world would I subject myself to that?”

“Because,” she continued, surreptitiously checking that there were no eyes or ears upon them, “you will be as good as married by the end of the week. You really should know I have many a-... how did she put it?... Oh, yes, spousal expectations.”

“Is that so?” Clarke scoffed, resting fists on wide hips as she looked at Lexa with a deeply unimpressed expression.

“Yes, I am afraid it is. Terribly important ones at that.”

“Such as?”

“Well,” she hummed, stepping forward when she had properly deemed the coast was clear, “the most obvious and important being how we shall greet each day. I fully and unwaveringly expect a kiss every morning before I rise to make us breakfast.” Nodding imperiously at the small grin that began to pull at her lover’s mouth, Lexa rested her arms on delicate shoulders as she continued. “Then, of course, there is the matter of our… nocturnal activities,” she leered, “... I will wholeheartedly consider it an egregious dereliction of marital duty if you do not allow me to hold you each and every night.”

“Such a demanding taskmaster,” Clarke teased softly, winding her arms around a slim waist.

“I intend to run a very tight ship in these regards.”

“Anything else?”

Pretending to think for a moment, Lexa nodded sagely before speaking again. “One other, yes... Lie to me as we grow old together. You must adamantly swear I am as beautiful then as I am now.”

“How you manage to be both unabashedly romantic and stupefyingly arrogant in the same breath, I shall never know.”

Clarke shook her head as the gleeful smile blossomed across Lexa’s face. Biting her lip, Lexa took one last look around the deserted hall before leaning in to place a slow, sensual kiss to amused lips. “As I am already certain you will be breathtakingly beautiful until the end of our days, my pride will surely require the small falsehood to feel even the slightest bit worthy of your affections,” she whispered when they parted, resting their foreheads together.

“I hate and love in equal measure the effect your words have on me,” Clarke breathed against her lips as she practically melted into her. “Come to my rooms tonight. I have missed your touch terribly.”

“Of course, my love,” she nodded gently, slowly drifting her nose against her lover’s. “I have an errand-”

“At this hour?” Clarke asked, pulling back to look at the woman with disappointed confusion.

“Yes, I’m afraid it is the only time the merchant is available to meet with me in private.”

“What merchant?”

“It is a surprise,” Lexa grinned roguishly. “You’ll have to exercise your rather poor patience just this once I am afraid.”

Huffing embarrassedly as Lexa watched the blush bloom across her cheeks, Clarke quietly agreed, her sulking “Very well, if you insist,” amusing her to no end.

“I will join you after. Don’t forget to open the latch to the passage befo-”

Lexa cut off her words as she flew away from Clarke when the heavy sounds of footsteps echoed from the connecting hallway. Hurriedly straightening her clothing, she dipped into a demure curtsy, holding the pose until she saw the candle lit figure appear around the corner. “A butler informed me you were feeling unwell, madam. I wished to see if there was anything required from the kitchens before you retire for the evening. Some tea to help you sleep, perhaps?”

“No, thank you, Alexandria,” Clarke smiled gratefully, playing along as her bed maiden drew near. “That’s very kind of you, but I believe a decent night’s rest is all I should need.”

“I was just coming to inquire the very same thing,” the newcomer announced as she stopped beside them, “But it seems dear Alexandria has beaten me to it. I should have known better, you girls have always had the loveliest of friendships.”

Both girls struggled to reign in their reactions to that particular interpretation.

“I’ll go arrange your sleeping gown and turn down the sheets, hmm,” the woman smiled with a hum, moving past them to enter Clarke’s bedchambers.

“Yes, thank you, Mrs. Dawdry. I will be in in a moment,” Clarke replied, nodding to the woman as she stepped behind the doors. Exhaling slightly, Lexa watched as bright blue eyes return to her as the woman’s shoulders shook.

“‘_Loveliest of friendships_’,” she whispered softly as she reached for the candle on the table beside them.

“Behave,” Clarke commanded quietly despite laughing herself.

“I will see you this evening.”

“I love you,” she saw Clarke mouth more than speak, the sound of her words no more than a ghost of breath.

“And I love you,” Lexa returned, reaching out to fleetingly tangle their fingers together as she stepped away, eventually turning to leave the way they had come.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Lexa walked through the cold evening air, the shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders practically useless against the bitingly chilled breeze that fluttered down the frost covered trail leading back to the countryside manor. Not that she paid her discomfort much mind, used to the icy quality of air this time of year.

Smiling softly to herself, she couldn’t help but slip her hand inside the pocket sewn onto the front of her apron, clutching the small box excitedly in her hand. Losing the battle between willpower and pride, Lexa pulled the box from its place of safekeeping. Tipping the plain wooden lid open, her smile widened as she looked down at the two small rings nestled in a scrap of white cloth, her heart hammering furiously in her chest as she took in the symbols of her love and devotion.

Once her eyes had drank their fill, she delicately closed the box again before tucking it back into it’s temporary home. It wasn’t until a few moments later, her heart having calmed and her mind at ease from having crossed one more item off her list of ‘To-Do’s, that she noticed what sounded like a matching pair of footsteps following a short distance behind her.

Blinking through the darkness, Lexa quickened her pace slightly, wanting to see if the person matched stride. When the soft sounds of feet fell out of sync with her own, though sounding as they had sped up as well, Lexa made a split second decision, gathering her courage and just a touch of anger, she whirled around the spot.

No one was there.

Clutching a hand to her chest to help calm her racing heart, Lexa’s eyes swept over the entirety of undisturbed grass and frozen, mud laden path in front of her, figuring there must somehow be a strange echo effect from the open field around her.

Confused and unsettled, she turned to hastily make her way home... instead coming face to face with a set of gleaming, gold eyes.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Clarke felt as though she would be sick, her stomach turning violently as she stared blankly at the untouched plate of food in front of her. She couldn’t bare to take a single bite of the meal, it’s symbolism alone enough to chase any appetite she may have had far away.

Not that she would be eating now even if it weren’t her rehearsal dinner.

“Clarke, dearest, are you alright?”

Turning to the quiet voice she heard from her right, Clarke took in the worried brown eyes looking back at her. Swallowing down the acrid bile and her urge to cry, she nodded lightly, painting her best approximation of a genuine smile across her face. “Yes, Finn. I am well,” she assured mechanically, the lie falling from her lips as easily as it had for the past three and a half weeks.

She felt a pang of guilt toward the sweet man beside her, his charm and attentiveness completely wasted on her.

“Don’t worry yourself, Mr. Collins,” her mother interrupted, both of them turning to look down at Abigail seated regally at the head of the grand dining table they were using to host their various guests. “Clarke has always been one to get lost in her thoughts, I’m sure it is simply nerves about tomorrow.”

“Oh,” he smiled gently as her looked back to her, laying a hand delicately on top of hers as it sat on the table. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“Yes, yes, t-that must be it,” she agreed, the lie tasting like ash as he squeezed her fingers warmly. Wishing to be anywhere but here in this moment, Clarke thought quickly while she had his attention. “Actually, I think… I think I might wish to retire for the evening. I want to be well rested for the morning, as there will be so many things to be done before… before it’s time.”

Even trying to say the words sent a wave of miserable dread rolling through her.

“Yes, I see. I, well I believe dinner will be over quite soon-”

“Would you please make my excuses to your family? I’m going to go explain my reasoning to Mother.” At the first dip of his bewildered and crestfallen nod, she stood from her chair, the chatter in the room not seeming to waiver at her movements. Gliding as confidently and inconspicuously as one can in the bizarrely gaudy dress her mother had insisted she wear, Clarke made her way down to where the woman sat.

Folding her hands demurely in front of her, Clarke met her mother’s eyes as she spoke softly, hoping not to be noticed above the din of conversation. “Finn and I were speaking, and he suggested it would be wise if I were to retire early for the evening. He believes it might help unburden my mind to have a night of good rest, so as to be fresh and renewed in the morning.”

Holding in the urge to scowl as her mother smiled approvingly at her words, she watched as her mother caught Finn’s eyes, a silent question and answer being exchanged between the two before she regarded Clarke again. “I think that’s a splendid idea. It’s lovely to see you and your husband already so attuned to each other. Yes, dear. Rest yourself, and we will see you in the morning.”

Clarke swore she felt yet another piece of herself die at the words, smiling silently as she nodded her dismissal before slipping out of the room as discreetly as possible. Her lip trembled violently as she grabbed a candle to light her way, hoping desperately that she could make it back to her room before completely falling to pieces. Walking quickly, she ascended the staircase two steps at a time, not even bothering to avoid walking past a particular drawing room door as she had for the entirety of the previous week.

Rounding the corner to her room, she saw Mrs. Dawdry waiting patiently for her at the end of the hall. “I suspected you would be excusing yourself soon,” the woman offered quietly with a small curtsy, her eyes looking solemn in the low candlelight.

“Oh?” she queried as she came to stand beside her, swallowing back her tears and emotions as best she could.

“Yes… Tomorrow will be ever the spectacle, I assumed you would wish to be refreshed for your grand day… And I know how… upsetting the last few weeks have been,” she said quietly, the underlying pity of her tone smarting tangibly.

“Well, such is life,” Clarke picked up the thread swiftly, “Regardless, it’s for the best I suppose… As Mother has advised, the… the friendship wouldn’t have been able to continue. It would have come to this, one way or another.”

“Of course, Miss,” the woman nodded deferentially, reaching to open the doors to the room as she seemed to take the hint. “Let us get you ready for bed then.”

“Actually,” Clarke pushed forward, moving to stand in the threshold of the room, effectively blocking the woman from entering. “I think I would prefer to be alone this evening.”

“But, Miss-”

“Please, Mrs. Dawdry,” she implored, “Please understand… My entire life will change when the sun rises… I wish to have one last evening to myself.”

“But your dress-”

“I had Sarah lace each piece from the top. I had planned on requesting solitude this evening and so ensured I would be prepared… _Please_.” Clarke watched as soulful grey eyes evaluated her, the battle between wanting to respect her wishes and fulfill her duty as Clarke’s lifelong bed maiden evident in her expression.

Eventually, however, the woman sighed softly as she nodded resignedly, taking a step forward to lay a gentle hand on her forearm. “As you wish.” The woman faltered for a moment before seeming to come to a decision. “The world can be an extraordinarily unfair place, especially for those of us of the more delicate of the sexes… But I have watched you grow from a girl to a proud and powerful young woman. Never allow yourself to be intimidated by new adventures and possibilities. If there were one thing I could say with absolute conviction, it is that Miss Clarke Griffin of Arkadia will not be broken by any man or beast. So calm your mind, dear. Tomorrow is nothing more than a new adventure.”

Clarke could barely hold herself upright, the weight of her words adding yet another crack to her already fragile heart. Nodding softly, Clarke stepped forward, gently hugging the woman she had known her entire life. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Think nothing of it,” she said pulling back after a moment. “Now, get yourself to bed. Wonderful things await on the horizon. Goodnight, Miss.”

“Goodnight, Mrs. Dawdry,” she returned with a smile, watching as the woman excused herself and disappeared down the hall.

Turning slowly on the spot, Clarke hung her head in misery as she went into her room, moving to shut the large double doors behind her. Stepping a few paces to her right, she used the candle in her hand to light a few more that sat on the table beside her bed, staring unseeingly into their dancing flames for a moment.

Shaking herself out of her stupor, she moved to sit in the seat in front of her vanity, slowly untwining the ridiculous tight curls her mother had assured her were the epitome of posh. Mindlessly brushing through strands of gold, she felt as empty inside as she had ever been.

“You look so beautiful.”

The words, though delicately whispered, thundered through the quiet air of Clarke’s room, the cadence and tone so familiar she jumped nearly a mile out of her seat as they landed in her ear. Whirling around, she clutched a hand to her chest as her gaze fell on the shadow drenched figure that stood previously unseen in the corner of her room.

“Lexa?” she breathed, slowly rising to her feet as her entire body trembled, terrified even a blink would cause the vision to vanish. One step turned to two as she inched her way forward before dark green eyes finally rose to meet her own. “Lexa,” she nearly wailed through a watery smile, flinging herself the remaining distance between them.

Throwing her arms around strong shoulders, she clung to the woman, tears cascading down her cheeks as she buried her face in a cool soft neck. Clarke whimpered as she felt arms hesitantly wrap around her, collapsing into the person she had begun to give up hope of ever seeing again.

“I have missed you so much. You never came and I thought… but you’re here. You’re here,” she cried gratefully, pulling back only to pepper kisses along her cheeks and jaw, paying no mind to the cold tracks of moisture that lined Lexa’s delicate face. “Where have you been?”

When no answer came, Clarke pulled back further, taking in the entirety of her lover for the first time in weeks. She begged with beseeching eyes for her lover to say something, anything, in explanation for her absence, but all Clarke received was a tender look of mourning, a trembling lower lip caught between pearly teeth the only thing giving away the woman’s emotions.

“Where have you been?” she repeated more firmly, starting to get aggravated as the seconds stretched on. “Lexa.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Where have you been?... Answer me,” Clarke demanded, lightly shoving rigid shoulders as she broke from their hold. “I have been going mad with worry for weeks… You were supposed to join me for bed but instead you disappeared. No word or message to put my heart and mind at ease… We were supposed to be gone from here weeks ago, and instead I have just been forced to spend the evening dining with my _future husband_,” she seethed quietly.

Swallowing roughly as her eyes slid closed at the words, Lexa took a moment before opening them again to speak. “I am sorry, my love.”

“Where have you-”

“I am sorry,” Lexa interrupted with a rasp, the words sounding choked and strained in her throat. “I am so terribly sorry, but I… I cannot run away with you. You must stay here, and I must go alone.”

Clarke felt as though a weight had dropped into the pit of her stomach despite her feeling as though she couldn’t feel the floor beneath her feet. She stumbled slightly as she reared back in confused devastation, shaking her head as her brain struggled to comprehend what exactly was happening. “Y-... you can’t leave me here.”

“Please, love, understand. I made this decision with you, and only you, in my heart.”

“You cannot leave me here, Lexa,” she whimpered, moving to stand in front of her again. “Whatever it is, we will figure it out.”

“There is nothing to figure out,” Lexa replied blankly, shifting to stand straighter as she reached up to wipe away the few fresh tears that had escaped. “It is done.”

“How can you say such things to me?” Clarke asked quietly, unable to understand how anything about the version of this woman in the moment reflected the lover she knew. “What has changed? Why do you seem so different?” She watched as Lexa released a shuddering breath, her shoulders seeming to slump as her eyes grew distant.

“Because I am different… I am a monster, Clarke.”

“Lexa, no,” she tried, reaching out before pulling her hands back when she saw the woman flinch away. “Sweetheart-”

“You don’t understand,” Lexa huffed, starting to slowly pace the length of the room. “I am not speaking fables. I am a monster... I fought with myself for weeks as to whether I should even risk coming to say goodbye.”

“Then why did you?” she spat, the hurt in her chest overshadowing her mounting sense of dread. “If you’re so determined to irrevocably shatter me, why show your face at all? Why not leave me to my heartache and ignorance?”

“That is not-”

“Or did you need to see me weep to get the full measure of enjoyment?”

“Enough, Clarke.”

“Or was it something much simpler?" she ground out, her own words and hurt making her stomach clench sickeningly. "Did you wish to taste aristocracy one last time before the game was over?”

“Stop. Now,” Lexa lowly growled, coming to a halt across the room, her eyes twinkling darkly as she glowered at the seething woman.

“That’s it, is it not? I see no other possible answers… You came to collect your farewell f-”

Before Clarke could begin to register the woman’s movements, Lexa seemed to tower over her, a strong arm wrapped around her waist, holding Clarke securely against her lithe body. Another hand cupped the back of her head, Lexa using her thumb to hold Clarke in place, ensuring her eyes took in nothing but her own. “I would die a thousand deaths to save you one tear. Do not ever, ever, accuse me of anything short of that promise… You are speaking from pain, but you know me better than being capable of such cruelty toward you.”

Despite the softness of her words, their intensity sent Clarke’s heart roaring in her chest. “If that were true you would leave with me. Tonight, right now.”

“Clarke,” Lexa breathed, her eyes slipping shut as she rested their heads together. “I am doing this to save you such pain. Please do not make this harder than it already is.”

“I don’t even know what is happening... Please, sweetheart, talk to me,” she pleaded, reaching up to cup the distraught woman’s face.

“I told you, I have become a monster.”

“I don’t understand what that means.”

“I,” Lexa hesitated, pulling back slowly, just far enough to look clearly into Clarke’s eyes. “I’m afraid… If I were to show you my true face… you would be horrified of me.”

“No, darling. No, I could never.”

“You do not know if that is true,” Lexa argued quietly, her words barely the ghost of a sound.

“... Well, then show me and we shall see,” Clarke said after a moment.

“But if I frighten you-”

“That has never seemed to bother you before,” Clarke teased with a small smile, trailing her hands down over Lexa’s still chest, blinking away the trill of unease at noticing the lack of defined heartbeat. Hitching a heartier smirk to her lips, Clarke smoothed over the collar of the woman’s dark dress. “You always had a rather exquisite love affair with sending me skittering like a startled cat… Show me.”

“This is diff-”

“Show me,” Clarke commanded softly.

Green eyes blinked a few times as Clarke felt hands relax against her without pulling away. Lexa seemed to take a steadying breath before focusing, Clarke watched the edges of her eyes beginning to look… odd. Before she knew what she was seeing, yellow burst from the darkened outer ring to replace forests of green in her lover's eyes. Before Clarke could stop herself, her hand flew to her mouth, smothering a faint cry as teeth sharpened lethally mere inches from her face.

"I will not hurt you," Lexa rushed out, hurriedly running her hand over the startled woman's hair, desperately trying to reassure her and stop her from panicking. "Please don't be frightened. I know I am ghastly, but I would never hurt you, my love. Not for the world."

Clarke struggled to calm her breathing, the soothing effect of Lexa's voice always something she clung to in times of distress. Her mind felt at odds, considering the source of her solace was coming from the source of her fear, her fight or flight mechanism warring with the instinctual draw to fall even further into the safety of her lover's arms. She watched as a razor sharp fang worried a full lower lip, a sheen of unshed tears clouding the intense pools of striking yellow.

"Lexa," she breathed into the still air between them, raising her hand to caress her cheek, her heart warming as Lexa's eyes fluttered closed at the touch. "What has happened to you?"

Straining through light sniffles as her chest heaved with emotion, Lexa seemed to struggle to produce words. "That night, I went to see the merchant… I was on my way back, back to you and our bed… when I-I was attacked… A woman, with pale skin and scars, and eyes now like my own… she followed me. She grabbed me and pulled me from the road… she bit me, fed on me," Lexa rasped, her voice growing more haggard and dark with each sentence. "Drank from me, until I collapsed and all fight had left me… When I felt as though I were already dead, so weak was I by then… she cut a slit on her wrist, and pressed it to my lips."

"Lexa," Clarke gasped, cupping her jaw as blue eyes darted all over the pained face before her.

"I was beyond my senses, my body acted without my consent… and I, when I awoke, I was a monster just as she."

"You're not a monster," Clarke argued quietly, wiping away the few tears that had escaped.

"I am though, Clarke," she insisted, "look at me." Clarke watched her eyes slide open as she continued. "I cannot bear sunlight, even a glancing ray burns white hot. Food does not satisfy my hunger, no drink lessens my thirst… There is a darkness in me now that calls for me to act on urges I shiver to say aloud."

"I don't care," Clarke replied, surprising even herself with the sincerity of her words. "I love you, I could never look upon you and see a monster. Even still, you are as beautiful as I have ever known... It simply startled me. But you are no monster."

"I have killed," Lexa growled, causing a small shudder to race through Clarke's body. "Two deer and a drunken man stumbling his way home. Because my hunger was so great I could not stop myself. I yearn for the blood of the living and feel only the shallowest of regret for their passing. If not monstrous, then what does that make me?"

Despite the sick feeling at the notion of her love committing such acts, it was the tone of self revulsion that stung sharply in her chest. Thinking as quickly as one could in a situation such as that, Clarke nodded acceptingly as she trailed her hands over the woman's shoulders. "Alright… Alright. Then, if you should be a monster, you shall be my monster, and I will love you just as I always have."

"No, Clarke," Lexa said, shaking her head furiously. "You deserve a world filled with light and happiness... That is why I am saying my goodbyes, because I can no longer provide you those things."

"And yet my life knows no happiness without you in it. Do not condemn me to misery by leaving me."

"You cannot live as I live now, not in a way in which you would thrive. I will not be the cause of your brilliance being squandered to shadows and darkness."

"Well then…" Clarke surmised slowly in her head, turning the situation over as best she could. "Then I suppose the only thing to be done is for you to make me as you are."

She stumbled slightly as the arms around her vanished, a low snarl churning the air as Lexa backed away in horror. "No!" she practically shouted, her face returning to its more human order. "Have you gone mad?"

"If what you say is true, then it is the only way. I will not live my life without you. I won't."

"You don't know what you ask," Lexa keened, her hands clenching the dark material of her dress across her stomach. "You cannot ask this of me."

"And you cannot ask me to resign myself to a loveless marriage and a life of heartache," she demanded before softening, desperately searching for the words to make her see. "… We promised each other forever, don't you remember? When we first made love on that hilltop of lavender… You were so tender, just as you always have been… and we vowed to love each other, always. I will not break that promise, nor will I allow you to break yours."

"I won’t do it."

"... Then I shall find another who will."

"You will not," Lexa growled darkly.

"But I will," Clarke defiantly stated. "If one found and made you, then they shall do the same to me."

"Clarke-"

"I will not do this!" she shouted angrily, slamming a fist against the table beside her as her emotions boiled over, causing the candles to shake, the dancing flames casting swaying shadows across their faces. "I will not have my life dictated for me. Not by my mother and not by you... I love you, and I know you love me and I will be with you no matter the circumstances, no matter the price... If I must chase you to the corners of the world each night, so be it. But you will not leave me here… By your own words, I am practically your wife... it would do you well to remember that and treat me as such."

Despite her confident veneer, Clarke trembled on the spot, wholeheartedly meaning every last word of her declaration, but terrified the woman would fight her on it regardless. They were both unerringly stubborn, their mutual ability to dig their heels into the sand causing many disagreements throughout their early friendship and subsequent relationship.

But Clarke was nothing if not determined.

She watched as Lexa seemed to evaluate everything she had said, the conflict on her face more than evident. "I do not want you to have this fate, my love," Lexa eventually muttered defeatedly.

"My fate is to be with you. Nothing else matters."

"You will die. Do you understand? You will die and then awake a monster," she stated bluntly. "It hurts-"

"Then you will be gentle with me as you always have been, I know you will."

"It was terrifying for me."

"But it's you, and I love and trust you," she nodded confidently, stepping closer with every excuse she dismissed. "You will put me at ease… make love to me."

"What?" Lexa asked, seemingly startled by the suggestion at such a time.

But Clarke had quickly thought it through, one of her greatest persuasive skills being her ability to think on her feet. "Make love to me while you… You said it will hurt, but you will give me pleasure as well. You said it was terrifying, but I have never known greater sanctuary than when laid bare in your arms…" she reasoned quietly, reaching out to take wringing hands in her own, slowly threading their fingers together as she drew closer. "My body has yearned for you these past weeks… for your weight and your stretch… for your taste."

"Clarke, I do not think this is a good idea," Lexa exhaled on panted breath, her flat eyes staring hungrily at Clarke's lips.

Raising their intertwined hands to press kisses to cool knuckles, Clarke grinned at the lust drunk expression on her lover's face. "After all these years, surely you must know when you are waging a losing battle, sweetheart… Now, be good, and undo my dress."

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Clarke tried to stifle the moan that loosed from her chest as her back hit soft sheets, cool hands guiding her down onto the downy soft pillow. It all felt so different yet entirely familiar as full hips settled between her spread thighs, an insistent mouth claiming her lips and tongue with passionate vigor.

They had quietly argued as Lexa had slowly unlaced and removed layer after layer, pressing kisses and hands to every inch of revealed flesh despite her halfhearted attempts to sway Clarke from her decision. Clarke had silently allowed her her futile persuasion, the whispered words of reasoning having no effect on her steadfast resolution. When the final piece of cloth had been stripped from her body, she had silently turned to return the favor, dismantling the woman’s arguments and sense of self control one button and tug at a time.

She knew she had won when she stepped into strong arms, the warm press of her breasts rendering Lexa decidedly mute.

After she had settled herself comfortably on the bed, Clarke received the enthusiastic love with reciprocal want, hands grasping blindly at hips and shoulders and flesh. “If we go any further, I will not be able to stop,” Lexa panted above her moving to kiss and nip the expanse of her neck.

Clarke moaned loudly as she felt herself being branded by her lover’s lips, her normal worry toward evidence of their trysts not a thought in her mind. “If you stop, I assure you I will die.”

“I believe I have heard that somewhere before,” Lexa said as she pulled back, grinning wickedly at her before shifting down to attend to pink straining buds.

Chuckling lightly, Clarke looked down as the woman's talented mouth worked across her chest, pangs and pounds of pleasure zinging through her body at the touch. “And then I was thoroughly ravished, as I recall.”

“I was sixteen and entirely too eager,” Lexa sighed with a smile, releasing her nipple with an audible pop as she leaned up on her arms. “My hands shook so violently I could barely free you of your corset.”

“Hmmm, well,” Clarke hummed, threading her fingers into curly locks of brunette, “my body ardently appreciated your efforts nonetheless… Remember that blanket we were forced to dispose of that evening? Your mother asked for ages where it had gone after our outing.”

“I…” Lexa started, hesitating for a moment before continuing. “I actually kept that blanket… I cleaned it and kept it hidden beneath my pillow.”

“You did?”

“Yes,” she admitted, nodding gently as she looked at Clarke with adoring eyes. “I would wrap it around myself on nights I missed you too greatly. When you would be gone on holiday or, or if we had quarreled… When you came to me with the news of Mr. Collins asking for your hand in marriage, I nearly suffocated the way I clutched it and wept.”

“Lex-”

“I have always loved you with my entire heart. From the gaiety of our innocence to the passion of adolescence and now. I love you deeper and more fully than I ever thought imaginable… I do not want to cause you pain, or burden you with my darkness.”

“The only darkness my life will know is if you are not in it,” Clarke whispered, “I will not have you by halves. Not by half days, nor half lifetimes. I am not giving up anything more than things which I never desired to begin with. I do not want Finn, I do not want wealth, and I do not want sunrises if you are not there beside me… So trust me. And take me as wholely as I have already taken you.”

Clarke nearly gasped when Lexa surged forward, her lips crashing down as hands caressed all within reach. She couldn’t help the wanton moan that ripped from her mouth as Lexa rocked steadily into her in a steady rhythm; the feeling of wetness gliding against wetness causing her stomach to clench tightly.

“You must be quiet, love.”

“I don’t care,” Clarke groaned blindly to the heavens, feeling hands gripping and grasping before trailing between her thighs.

“If they find me defiling the young lady of Arkadia-”

“In more ways than one,” she quipped as her eyes rolled slightly when nimble hands found their mark as Lexa shifted above her.

“Incorrigible,” Lexa tsked even as her fingers continued to circle, sliding through wetness in slow sweeps and drags.

Clarke, wanting to focus on all the delicious feelings coursing through her body, lifted her thigh to slippery folds, effectively shutting Lexa right up. They panted and ground against each other for long stretches of moments, kissing and sucking at lips and tongues as they steadily climbed peaks of pleasure and bliss. A low rumbling growl cut through Clarke's lust colored fog, the vibrations painted across her skin sending an aching pulse through her core.

She whined loudly at the feeling, grabbing handfuls of clenching flesh as she encouraged the increasingly messy grind of hips. The nipping and snarling against her increased with her hold, teeth dragging mercilessly at the tender spot where shoulder met neck.

“I’m close,” she gasped out, fisting a hand of brown satiny curls. She felt Lexa wrench away, shifting up to kiss her soundly before pulling back, yellow eyes looking lost in a cloud of love and lust and hunger. Nodding as best as she could while feeling herself tighten around relentlessly thrusting fingers, Clarke swallowed roughly to softly plead, "Please, darling. Please take me.”

Her body shuddered and writhed when expert fingers curled and massaged her just so, gleaming eyes sparkling predatorily as Lexa slowly lowered back down. A deep, bruising kiss was pressed to her mouth before cool pillowy lips trailed over her jaw.

A hand lovingly cradling the opposite of her face was Clarke's only warning as razor sharp fangs sank into her flesh.

She came with a startled yelp, her body quaking and hips bucking despite the burning sensation that spread from her neck through her chest. Her hands instinctively flew to the flexing shoulders above her, her nails digging in harder than she was capable of stopping. Clarke bit her lip violently as she willed her mouth to keep any sounds of discomfort from escaping, knowing how heavily the noises would weigh on Lexa’s heart. She wrapped a leg around softly rocking hips as her arms locked the woman in place against her. The burning increased as the pleasure began to ebb, though she took comfort in the gentle thumb slowly swiping along her cheek as her lover held her tenderly in a desperate attempt to lessen the spiraling pain from the bite.

Clarke felt the room start to spin as her breathing grew heavy, the thundering beneath her breast beginning to feel thready and weak. As her eyes started to dip close, her mind deciding that perhaps a nap was in order, Lexa pulled away to quietly pant above her. “No, love. Look at me... Clarke, open your gorgeous eyes,” she said hurriedly as she caressed the sides of her face.

“But I’m so tired.”

“I know, my love,” Lexa sighed, the relief evident in her voice. “I know. You can sleep in a moment, and I will hold you so tight, but first you must drink.” Without another word she unceremoniously tore a gash in her own wrist with the point of her fang, pressing it to Clarke slack and pale lips.

Clarke felt the slow trickle of cool liquid splash over her tongue, the metallicy flavor and texture anything but appetizing. But as she breathed in and out, as her mouth filled and emptied with each shudder and swallow, the flavor turned intoxicating and her pulls became deeper. She vaguely registered growling in her ear as a gentle tongue lapped at the wound on her neck. Clarke's eyes slid shut again when she grabbed the arm to begin drinking in earnest... until suddenly, the burning pain intensified and tore through the entirety of her body.

Her arms wildly grasped for the sheets beside her, one hand ripping a hole through the sturdy material as the other sank fingers into cool flesh. A mouth clamped over her lips, swallowing her pained whimpers as gentle hands caressed and smoothed over her fiery skin. “You’re alright, darling,” she heard gasped between deep searching kisses to her twisting lips. “You’re going to be alright… I’m going to make everything better when you wake… I swear it.”

Clarke felt adrift in a haze of pain and nothingness as her body slowed it’s involuntary struggle. Her limbs grew heavier with each labored breath as her mind slipped further and further away. She fought to form words but none made it past her lips as her head rolled to the side, searching dazedly for glistening, tear glossed eyes looking down at her lovingly.

“Sleep, love,” Lexa whispered with a kiss as Clarke’s eyes finally rested on a slow fluttering blink. “You’re safe… You’re safe.”

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

She felt as though she were floating.

Tendrils of reality between consciousness and death tugged at her senses as Clarke slowly became aware of herself again. Her body felt strange, cold and still, the usual thumping rhythm that had accompanied her waking life was startling in its deafening silence. She felt hollow, a gnawing sensation that twisted at her stomach as her mouth watered slightly and her jaws clenched in want of satiation.

As she climbed further out of the recesses of black, Clarke took stock of her surroundings the more she became aware.

Nuzzling into the softness beneath her cheek, she breathed in deeply, smelling the sweet scent that often accompanied her dreams. She realized her face was resting on the arm of her lover, as whisper soft fingers trailed over her skin. Struggling against the heaviness of her eyes, Clarke fluttered and fought her way through the haze. Opening her eyes, she blinked once, and then twice, finally taking in the warm face before her.

Adoring green eyes stared at her longingly, accompanied by a small sad tilt on full lips that could be read as a smile. “Good morning, my love… How are you feeling?”

With each passing moment Clarke felt herself come more alive, a strange sort of power stirring from her head to her toes. Silently, she looked around the room, noticing that it seemed far brighter than before, despite the angle and cast of shadows thrown by still burning candles.

“It’s unsettling at first, I know,” Lexa said quietly, Clarke’s attention snapping back to her as she spoke. “Your eyes are now made for darkness… You will be able to see in pitch black evenings, not even the moon will be necessary for sight.”

“Do I-” Clarke tried, the words sounding scratchy in her raw throat. She noticed for the first time how bizarre her mouth felt, taking a moment search along her teeth, feeling the points of sharpened canines grate across her tongue. Swallowing thickly before clearing her throat, she tried again quietly, “Am I like you? I mean, am I…”

“Yes,” Lexa said solemnly, her eyes gliding over the planes of her face.

Clarke felt another stronger pang flit through her stomach. “I am hungry,” she said abruptly with a pained wince.

“Yes, of course, I'm sorry, my love. Let's get you taken care of,” she hushed, leaning forward to kiss her softly.

Clarke was struck with how mundane it all felt, despite her death and rebirth. It felt almost exactly as it had waking up in Lexa's arms hundreds of times before, her kind and gentle eyes reverently greeting Clarke from slumber left her feeling oddly excited. She hadn't known what to expect, not that she had given it much thought; so singular in her pursuit to persuade Lexa into keeping them together that she hadn't really considered any possible unsavory outcomes. Though the longer she thought on it, the more she decided it was probably a blessing.

"Where did you go?" Clarke started at the softly spoken question as a finger lightly trailed over her jaw. Blinking rapidly out of her thoughts, she was surprised to see Lexa already sitting up, one leg hanging off the side of the bed.

"I was thinking about how normal this feels… My body and mind feel… I don't know, odd, I suppose… But this feels normal. Me and you here, waking up beside you."

"You're still you, love," Lexa assured, easing the unspoken worry in Clarke's eyes. "Your mind and your emotions are as they have always been... You're still you, only different."

Clarke couldn't help the small snort at her words, a teasing smile creeping across her lips. "Eloquent."

Scoffing loudly, Lexa pushed off of the bed in a huff, shaking her head at the giggling woman. "Why I put up with your cheek, I will never know."

"Because you love me."

"Occasionally."

"And my breasts," Clarke joked as she sat up as well, leaning forward to stretch her arms out before her.

“From your lips to my ears,” Lexa nodded with feigned grave sincerity. "Come on, love," she said, holding out a hand for her, "If you do not feed soon you will become ill."

"I feel as though I could eat an entire village," Clarke groaned wistfully as she accepted the hand and climbed out of bed, warm arms wrapping around her waist as she stood.

"Yes, well, I don't believe that would aid in our need to remain unhunted," Lexa said apologetically, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss to waiting lips. "Besides, the guilt you would feel would burden you for ages."

"Right now I would gladly dispatch my own mother."

"That is the hunger talking, I assure you," she smiled amusedly as she pulled away to gather the pieces of clothing strewn around the room. "Let's get dressed and we will find you something."

"What do you think I should wear?" Clarke asked absently, walking over to the tall wardrobe and opening its double doors with a flourish. "What is the latest fashion in undead couture?"

Lexa laughed lightly as she stepped into her modest grey dress, pulling it up to slip over her under garments. "I haven't the faintest idea… but we will be traveling so I would err on the side of mobility and comfort."

"Perhaps my riding attire?" she pondered, turning to Lexa as she did up the buttons on the front of her dress.

"The jacket, perhaps, but your skirts I'm afraid might be more than the saddle could manage. I only have the one horse as I did not… anticipate… the evening going as such."

"You've always underestimated my ability to persuade you," Clarke sniffed as Lexa came over and nudged her out of the way to begin rummaging through the various options.

"No, darling, I would never. The trouble lies in my overestimation of my ability to deny you a single thing you ask of me… Here, this should do nicely." She handed the dress off to the smugly grinning woman, dropping a kiss to her lips before moving to collect their shoes.

"So where are we going to go? Still to Lady Mary's?" Clarke asked as she began pulling on the simple midnight blue dress Lexa had chosen.

"No, I- I had actually… booked passage... I had intended to leave. I had no misconceptions as to whether I would be able to keep myself away from you if I were near. As you can see from this evening alone how helpless I am in that regard," she sighed heavily. Looking up, Lexa took in the pained expression across delicate features, shimmering blue reflecting Clarke's devastation at the thought of their separation. Moving forward, Lexa gently wrapped the woman in her arms as she hurried to continue. "But I do not regret it now that it’s done. I had been miserable at the thought of life without you."

"I cannot believe you were going to leave me."

"I cannot believe I did not come to you first," Lexa insisted. "It was idiocy, and selfish to make a choice for us both. I had my choice taken from me, and the thought that I almost did the same to you… I am sorry. Truly. I should have known better, and trusted you. I will not make that mistake again."

Clarke was quiet for a long moment before speaking, gazing into deeply repentant eyes. "... Swear it. I need you to swear to me you will not turn from me again."

She watched as Lexa’s mouth slowly spread into a gentle smile as the woman stepped back, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small wooden box. "I swear... I swear on my life. On this life, and any life after… that I will never leave you," she vowed quietly as she opened the lid.

Clarke gasped quietly as she took in the two small rings nestled inside, both etched with a design that resembled winding vines. "Lex," she breathed, her eyes flitting back and forth between gleaming green and silver.

She trembled as slim fingers picked up the one to the right as Lexa continued. "I had a plan, from before, but I believe now is the time… I swear to you, darling. I will trust you, and love you through whatever may come. I will rejoice in your happiness, because your happiness is my own." She set the box down before reaching forward, taking Clarke’s hand reverently as she stepped closer again. "I will be your friend, and your lover, and everything in between. Because those are all of the things you are to me... I will protect you, and comfort you, and cherish you. Because you are my wife," she whispered confidently, slipping the small band onto Clarke's finger and sealing it with a kiss, "... and I love you more than I could ever say."

Lexa stumbled a few steps as she worked to keep them upright, chuckling lightly into the lips that had crashed against her own. They struggled through the kiss, their smiles threatening to crack them in two as they clung to each other in the warm glow of the room. "I'll mmm, I'll take that… as a 'yes'?"

"Yes," Clarke beamed as she peppered kisses to lips and cheeks and chin, clutching the woman to her chest as though she might float away. "Yes. Of course, yes. I love you... I love you, I love you, I love you," she mumbled against soft skin, her words hurried and bleeding together. "I have always been yours."

"And I, yours… Here," Lexa said with a giddy smile, pulling away just enough to reach for the second ring. "Please," she requested quietly after pressing into Clarke's hands.

Clarke breathed deeply as she slid the silver band onto Lexa's delicate finger, blue eyes never breaking their loving gaze. "Every day, I will work for us and our love. Over everything and everyone, I will always choose you. Wherever you go, I shall be beside you, whatever you require from me, I will give freely and wholly... I will collect every smile and hold it in my heart, and wipe away every tear that ever should fall. You are the love of my life, and I cannot wait to spend it with you... however long that may be." They chuckled quietly at her words even as they both struggled to hold back their tears.

Their first kiss as wives was as passionate as it was calming, indulgent tongues and whisper soft sighs charging the very air around them. Clarke felt arms wrap tightly around her waist before the ground disappeared beneath her, her startled laughter breaking the moment.

"Put me down," she yelped as she tightened her hold on flexing shoulders.

"As you command, my gorgeous wife," Lexa beamed, setting her down gently to cup her jaw. "Or I should say, Mrs. Woods."

"I had thought we decided on Griffin-Woods?"

"You decided," Lexa rolled her eyes amusedly, running her hands along the length of Clarke's back, "but I couldn't care which, as long as yours and mine are the same."

"It does have such a nice sound, does it not?" she smiled triumphantly, dropping a pleased kiss to grinning lips.

"For a mouthful, it certainly does," Lexa hummed as she pulled away. "Now, dear spouse, we really must go if we wish to feed and make it home before sunrise."

"Home?"

"Yes, I, I have a room at a boarding house outside of the village," Lexa informed her gingerly, "They will not question our odd hours and I have paid through the week… We have time to figure out our plan until then."

"... A room and a ticket. You certainly moved quickly," Clarke tsked as she slid on the shoes Lexa had selected for her.

"So," Lexa jauntily chirped, having no intention of furthering that train of thought. "We cannot carry much I am afraid, but let's use this bag for anything you may wish to take with us."

"There isn't much," Clarke answered honestly as she took stock of the room, her voice trailing off as she realized how few things really held any value in her heart. The thought made her a bit sad; a lifetime of trappings and collections ultimately feeling rather meaningless... "Perhaps a few of those books, you know which ones are our favorites."

"The blue and the red and the green, yes?"

"Yes, and the grey. Thank you, sweetheart."

"You know it occurred to me just now," Lexa mentioned as she stuffed the books into the bag along with a few trinkets and mementos she thought her wife might like to keep. "We will finally have time for you to teach me to read properly."

"Oh, I love that. Yes, that will be one of the first things we do."

"Is there anything I have forgotten?" Lexa asked as she buttoned the flap of the satchel closed.

"No… these were never the things that brought me happiness."

Smiling softly, Lexa nodded her acceptance. "Do you wish to leave a note? For your mother and father?"

"... No,” she decided after a moment of thought, “I don't believe so. I don't believe it would bring them any comfort."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes… I just wish to go," Clarke nodded confidently, heaving a sigh as she turned to open the door.

"Where are you going?"

The question made her stop in her tracks, turning back to look at the woman confusedly. "I… I thought we were leaving?"

"We cannot go that way," Lexa replied matter of factly, shaking her head as she moved toward the window, pulling it open and filling the room with cold evening air. "We would likely be spotted by a maid roaming the halls."

"Well then how did you manage to make it all the way to my room?"

"I climbed your trellis."

"Oh, my," Clarke smirked as she moved to join her. "That sounds vaguely inappropriate. Tell me more."

Huffing a laugh, Lexa dropped the bag to the ground below. "Your mind is a well of filth, you require no help from me. Now watch me, and step where I step. Wait until I've reached the bottom, I will catch you if anything should go wrong."

Nodding as the woman smoothly slipped out of the window, she watched as her wife moved with surprising agility down the side of the house. "I am going to break my arse," she mumbled idly to herself, hitching a smile on her face as Lexa's feet hit solid ground.

At the signal for her to start her descent, Clarke threw a leg over the edge, hesitantly climbing out. She realized quite quickly that her body was more than capable of handling the obstacle, moving fluidly and silently down the latticework at a rapid pace. Feeling hands needlessly grip her waist, she allowed herself to be lowered down the few remaining feet and gently set down. "Well, there are certainly perks to this new affliction, aren’t there?"

"Wait until you have fed, you will feel as you have never felt before," Lexa grinned wickedly, grabbing the bag and her hand before kissing her softly. "Are you ready, my love?"

Taking one last look at the house she grew up in, various memories played across her mind. It didn't escape her that the majority of her fondness revolved around the woman whose hand hung laced with her own, fingers threaded together as they had been since childhood. Breathing a silent goodbye to a lifetime passed, Clarke nodded with a smile as she turned to walk away.

"Yes, sweetheart. Let’s go home."

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

~~~~ More Than A Few Years Later ~~~~

The small chime of the street shop’s bell sounded as she stepped in, dusting off the snow that had fallen unseasonably early for this time of year. “Mrs. Griffin, lovely to see you.”

Clarke looked at the jovial man smiling brilliantly at her from behind the counter, a matching one spreading across her face as she stepped forward and rested her hands on the glass. “Griffin-Woods, Mr. Henry,” she reminded him softly for what felt like the thousandth time, “and it is lovely to see you as well.”

“Oh right, yes, you’ll have to excuse a poor man’s old mind. I didn’t mean to disrespect, God rest your poor husband’s soul.” Clarke only hummed with a nod as her eyes trailed over the selection around her. “How is your dear sister-in-law by the way? It has been quite awhile since she’s been in.”

“She’s well,” Clarke assured him as she lazily plucked a few sprigs and blooms from various barrels. “Busy this time of year, what with everyone ordering new dresses and such. I thought I would bring her some flowers to liven up her work room.”

“Splendid idea,” he clapped happily, moving to arrange the array she had chosen. “She will love these, I’m sure of it… You two ladies are so lucky to have each other. Losing a brother and a husband so young, such a shame.”

Clarke hummed again absently as she rifled through her coin purse, pulling out the amount and a little something extra for the holiday season. “Thank you as always, Mr. Henry,” she said as she picked up the bouquet, grinning at the man before turning to the door.

“Please flip the sign on your way out, dear. And give your sister-in-law my regards. Tell her I’m still waiting on that marriage proposal,” he joked lightly, grabbing his cane as he moved toward the back stockroom.

“I’ll let her know, I’m sure this time’s the charm,” she giggled, waving slightly to the old man and flipping the ‘Closed’ sign before letting the door shut behind her.

Walking the few blocks between the small flower shop and their home, Clarke enjoyed the snow quieted streets of the normally bustling city. After five years in the heart of steel and smoke, she had learned to appreciate the small moments of peace in her life. It had been quite a transition when they had made their way over, the soft rolling silence of country sides exchanged for steam engines and grit.

But she loved their home, a small two bedroom brownstone that stood on the quiet corner of one of the few remaining cobblestone roads. Feeling the satisfying click of the small brass lock, she stepped inside the darkened hallway to remove her jacket. Hearing music softly playing, Clarke couldn’t help but smile as she hung up her coat before moving toward the warmly lit room at the end of the hall.

“Hello, my gorgeous girl,” she said brightly as she entered their sitting room, grinning at the woman fluttering around a mannequin form.

“Hello, love. You were gone when I woke up,” Lexa frowned at her as she secured a few pins into place.

“I’m sorry, but I come bearing gifts.” She delighted in the bright smile that overtook her wife’s face as she gracefully moved forward to accept Clarke’s present, receiving a rather thorough kiss and a quick hug for her efforts.

“They’re beautiful, thank you, darling. I haven’t had time to make it in before the shop closes in weeks… How is Mr. Henry?” Lexa asked as she took the flowers from her hands and walked out of the room to collect a vase and some water.

“Spirited as always,” Clarke chuckled as she settled on the couch. “Still thoroughly in love with you.”

“Well, who isn’t?” she heard her wife call from the kitchen, the smug tone to her voice causing Clarke to roll her eyes good naturedly.

“Your love for yourself is awe-inspiring.”

“I know, but it's never more than I love you.”

“You think yourself slick,” she smiled exasperatedly at the woman as she came in and set the flowers down on top of the fireplace mantle.

“Only when you do something even mildly sexy.”

Clarke scoffed softly as her wife plopped down beside her, ever amused by Lexa’s continuously expanding vocabulary. Once she had learned the skill, the woman had been off to the races, consuming any and every piece of written work she could get her hands on. More often than not she heard new, and often surprisingly vulgar, words for the first time as they fell from her wife’s lips. “Ever the romantic.”

“Why else would you have married me,” she smiled sweetly, tucking herself into Clarke’s side as an arm wound around her shoulder. "Would you like to go out tonight?"

"Mmm, it's snowing. I doubt there will be many out, so we'll more than likely have to share."

"That's fine, I'm not particularly hungry… Hopefully that awful man who kicks strays is around, that would be lovely."

Clarke nodded gently, kissing the crown of her head as they settled further against one another. Her mind was blissfully blank as she stared at the small fire before them, running the tips of her fingers along the cool skin of her wife's arm.

"Mrs. Porter mentioned something the other evening when I was dropping off the rent," Lexa started quietly, the tone of her voice letting Clarke know she wouldn't like where this was going.

"... Oh?"

"Yes… she mentioned how jealous she was… that we hadn't aged a day in the time she has known us."

Clarke couldn't stop the loud groan, her head falling back on the couch behind her. "But I like it here."

"I know, my love," Lexa lamented along with her, leaning up to press a series of kisses to her jaw. "But we should at least begin to think about it."

Heaving a sigh, Clarke nodded as she looked forward again. "Did you have anywhere in mind?"

"West?" she suggested hesitantly. "So many are moving out there, we would blend in perfectly… And when you consider the same point, warm meals wouldn’t be hard to come by."

Clarke drew back slightly to look down at her amusedly, taking in the questioning eyes looking back at her. "You thought of that quickly."

"Well," Lexa smirked softly as her hand slid across Clarke's abdomen, "I did vow to take care of you and protect you… Honestly, if she had pushed the issue much further, we'd be on our way tonight and New York would be three residents lighter."

"Ooo, murder and fleeing in the dead of night, you know my turn-on's far too well." Clarke felt the woman chuckle against her as she curled back into the spot on her chest. "I just enjoyed this place. I'll be sad to say goodbye."

"Me too," Lexa agreed, her arms tightening consolingly around Clarke's waist. "... But we can always come back. Whenever you wish."

Eyes trailing around the house they had called home for the past few years, Clarke resigned herself to the inevitable. She would miss the life they shared here, but it was not painful, long since used to moving from region to region. East coast or west, new world or old, it really didn't matter in the end...

Nodding slightly, Clarke held her wife closer, raising a slim hand to gently stroke the polished ring on a lithe finger.

"I suppose it is about time for a new adventure… Tell me the plan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't be mean to me, I'm fragile.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and/or comments very very much appreciated. Thanks everybody for reading


End file.
